


It Takes Two

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Dancing, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 22:05:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7139321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You should dance with Reo-nee,” says Kotarou. “Then even if you tripped over him it would be romantic.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes Two

Physical education is probably Eikichi’s least favorite subject in school. He’s plenty active on his own, and aside from one glorious semester of mostly self-regulated weight training most of the activities just aren’t very fun. Learning to play volleyball when the captain of the school team is on your side and yelling at the uncoordinated kids for holding their hands wrong sucks; so does trying to play basketball with temporary teammates who can’t throw a bounce pass. This semester they’re doing ballroom dancing, though; while it doesn’t sound particularly strenuous Eikichi’s pretty sure most of his classmates don’t know shit about it, and the footwork might be able to transfer to basketball.

And Reo’s excited about it; he’s trying to play it cool but of course this is totally his thing, fancy outfits and prowling around to the beat of some big band song. His enthusiasm is kind of cute and almost infectious—until they’re assigned permanent partners. Reo gets assigned to the tallest girl in the class, the softball team’s ace pitcher who’s strong and quick with good reflexes. Eikichi gets assigned to a scrawny girl named Nakase whom he’s pretty sure is on the go team and he’s definitely sure always places last in the fitness tests.

But when it comes to ballroom, they’re probably evenly matched. Even for their first lesson the footwork is delicate; Eikichi keeps stomping too hard and his partner keeps nearly tripping and they’re always trying to go in opposite directions. Eikichi steals a glance at Reo; at least he seems to be enjoying himself—and no, Eikichi’s not jealous; okay? He’s not upset by how good Reo looks with someone else, and he doesn’t want to be the one Reo is leading effortlessly across the gym floor.

* * *

The semester wears on; Eikichi doesn’t get much better at ballroom. He keeps getting the steps mixed up, and the strong and weak beats just don’t make sense to him. He and Nakase are still getting off-track from one another; one of the couples that usually dances next to them keep stumbling but they’re always in sync at least. And the performance at the end of the semester is looming like a full moon low on the horizon, blindingly bright. They’re not ready.

“Ballroom dancing sounds like so much fun,” says Kotarou. “Swimming is so boring.”

“I’ll trade you,” says Eikichi.

“If you’d only try harder,” Reo starts.

“I am trying,” Eikichi says, preempting whatever line Reo’s going to spout next. “I just suck at it.”

Reo hums, placing a hand on Eikichi’s shoulder.

“You should dance with Reo-nee,” says Kotarou. “Then even if you tripped over him it would be romantic.”

“You wouldn’t,” says Reo, withdrawing his hand.

“Excuse you? Kotarou’s the one who said I would,” Eikichi says, turning to Kotarou. “Besides, I’m not that bad.”

Kotarou shrugs. “Whatever. You’re the one who gave me that impression.”

“You have an overactive imagination.”

Reo puts his hand back on Eikichi’s shoulder, presumably as a calming gesture (or a warning, but most likely both).

“You’re too good a dancer to be wasted on me,” says Eikichi.

Reo squeezes his shoulder, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.

* * *

Reo’s performance is one of the first. The pairs preceding him have both been adequate; between them they have a few stumbles but nothing egregious and certainly better than how Eikichi and his partner would do at this point. They’ll have a little time at the end of each class to participate; a little might not be enough, though. He frowns, but decides not to worry about that when he should be watching Reo—Reo looks good; he usually does but today he looks even better, hair gelled into place and wearing a suit that leaves no part of his body to the imagination (how the hell he’d gotten his legs into those pants is a mystery). His partner looks lovely, too, but she pales in comparison to Reo—so much for his claims of not wanting to outshine anyone (not as if Eikichi ever believed them in the first place).

And Eikichi goes from admiration to just plain wondering how Reo moves so well in that outfit, how tightly he holds his partner (and he fights back the stupid petty jealousy that surges in his stomach because seeing Reo hold anyone else like that, communicating the intimacy better than some actor in a drama, lifting her as if she were weightless, is a little too much) and he can’t look away from the way his fingers move nimbly, the footwork back and forth so rapidly (is it stressing his knees?) and the effortless twirling of his arms.

Eikichi’s not the first one to rise in ovation for them; they’ll undoubtedly be receiving full marks. And Reo, dancing like that, moving his ass like that, is still front and center in Eikichi’s mind as he struggles to practice with his partner. She’s distracted, too; she trips over his feet and smacks her head on his chest and barely apologizes; her hands are sweating and she wipes them on her shirt and Eikichi forgets which beat of the imaginary music they’re supposed to be on and almost twists his ankle.

It doesn’t get much better as the week progresses; he and Nakase are one of three pairs on the last day and they still haven’t made much practice. Even focusing on the foxtrot doesn’t help that much; it’s their best but it still isn’t very good. And so Eikichi finds himself, exhausted from practice, setting his phone to play that damn song he’s already so tired of, moving his feet one-two-three-four and pretending to hold his partner, spinning her around (funny how it’s so much easier when she’s not there to be disengaged).

He’d forgotten to lock the door; he whirls the empty air in his arms around and there’s Reo leaning on the doorframe, one eyebrow arched.

“Busy?”

“Yeah,” says Eikichi.

He lowers his arms; the song continues in the background and he sighs.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go get coffee, but…”

“Yeah,” says Eikichi. “I do want to, but I kind of need to pass this class.”

“Can I help?” says Reo.

Actually, that would be good—Reo knows this stuff, even if he’d danced the rumba with his partner for their final. He can see what Eikichi can’t see in himself. He nods, expecting Reo to sit on the bed and watch—but instead Reo walks up to him and inserts himself neatly into Eikichi’s arms, placing Eikichi’s hands properly on his body. They’re at each other’s eye level, and Reo is so strong and substantial under his hands, so different from Nakase’s bony frame.

And then Reo starts to lead them across the room.

“Hold on,” says Eikichi. “I have to lead.”

Reo shrugs. “You’re not trying.”

This isn’t funny, or helpful. Eikichi quickens his step; he’s doing it wrong, twice as fast as the music but it’s fast enough to get there before Reo, to initiate turns and forward progression before Reo can. He’s misstepping; his fingers are in the wrong positions and his posture is bad but they’re getting somewhere. Reo’s trying to wrestle the lead back, but he can’t let that happen; he moves faster, more decisively; he catches himself almost tripping over his feet but recovers. He tries to pay extra attention to his foot positioning but then Reo bites his lip and tosses his head, letting his bangs fall away from his face and Eikichi forgets everything for a second because wow. The song is on its third repeat by now; Eikichi doesn’t care. He’s going to win this. He lifts Reo into the air and sets him down, savoring the way his hands had felt around Reo’s waist as they continue. He’s getting tired, so he slows it down, wary of Reo attempting to get the lead again. But Reo, sensing the change, leans into his chest. It’s not at all like Nakase awkwardly tripping forward; he fits, head resting on Eikichi’s shoulder. And that haircut has looked good on him since the day he got it but the best thing about it is the way his neck is exposed and this angle is the perfect one to see it, slender and pale. The song restarts once more; they’re nearing a standstill to their own rhythm.

Reo slides his arms around Eikichi’s waist; all the premises of dancing that remain, having avoided being stripped away like layers of paint during a house renovation, disappear entirely. They’re not even swaying anymore. Eikichi kisses Reo’s ear and then lifts him up again; Reo squawks and squirms but Eikichi’s already flopped down on the bed and Reo has no option but to fall on top of him.

“Don’t know if it helped but that was fun,” says Eikichi.

“Of course it helped,” says Reo. “You learned to take the lead.”

“Nakase isn’t going to—”

“But if she’d tried, you might have let her,” says Reo, rolling off Eikichi and lying next to him.

Eikichi’s about to retort that there’s no way that would have happened, no way she has the physical strength or the ability, but that’s not the point. Reo slips a hand into his.

“It’s still not going to make me do the steps better.”

“You were doing them better because you weren’t thinking too hard about them. All you needed to do was be confident and move; as long as you take the lead and fake it you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” says Eikichi. “It’s easy to get distracted with you.”

“Just think about me tomorrow,” says Reo.

Eikichi snorts, and as soon as he meets Reo’s eyes they both start to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> happy mibunebu 6/8 
> 
> your feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
